


Earp to the Future

by coracoidprocess



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Back to the Future Au, F/F, Kind of follows canon - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-25
Updated: 2017-10-16
Packaged: 2019-01-05 05:16:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12183603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coracoidprocess/pseuds/coracoidprocess
Summary: On a research expedition in the Earp Homestead attic, Waverly and Nicole's daughter accidentally sends herself back to the day her parents met.-AKA Wayhaught meets Back to the Future.





	1. Chapter One

Laughter filled the dining room at the Earp Homestead. Half-finished dinner plates and empty bottles of red wine littered the table. Waverly Earp and her wife, Nicole Haught, were on one side of the table. On the other side was Waverly’s sister, Wynonna, and Wynonna’s niece, Winnie, who was laughing so hard that her right cheek had begun to spasm.

“Aunt Wynonna…” Winnie Earp gasped out. “Please. I can’t breathe.”

“All right, all right,” Wynonna said.

“That’s a great story, sis, but I was there and I don’t remember any…

“Okay, Waves,” Wynonna interrupted. “You don’t have to ruin every single one of my old stories with your commentary. Why don’t you grace us with one of your own one hundred percent accurate tales of the past? How about the time when Haught-Pants swept you off your feet?” Wynonna wiggled her eyebrows at her younger sister.

“Excuse me? How about the time when Haught-Pants swept me off my feet? I was the one who showed up at Nedley’s office—You know what? Never mind.” Waverly crossed her arms over her chest.

“Aw, mom. Come on. You know I love that story. Tell it, please?” Winnie put on her best pleading, puppy dog face.

Waverly’s willpower tended to crumble around either of her two redheaded loves. She rolled her eyes.

“Fine,” she said. “I had the opening shift at Shorty’s that day.”

“Bar wench.” Wynonna fake-coughed out the words.

Waverly glared at her sister. “Do you want me to stop?”

Winnie smacked her aunt’s arm. “Stuff it.”

Nicole reached out and squeezed Waverly’s forearm, pressing her lips to Waverly’s cheek briefly.

“I was opening the bar alone and of course the taps were broken. They were always broken. So I was cleaning up and the Big Rock tap started spraying beer everywhere.”

“Why was Shorty even serving Big Rock? It tastes like salty ass.”

“This is going to take forever if you continue to editorialize,” Waverly said, leaning over the table to lightly flick her sister’s arm.

“Fine, fine.”

“Anyway. I drenched myself in beer right as Nicole— “

“Haught-Pants,” Wynonna interjected. Waverly glared at her. “Sorry, that was the last one.”

“I drenched myself in beer right as Nicole walked into the bar looking for a cup of coffee.”

“I wasn’t looking for a cup of coffee,” Nicole said.

“We know,” the rest of the table said in unison. Nicole raised up her hands in surrender.

“When I was trying to change out of my wet shirt, I got a button stuck on my earring and Nicole had to help me. There was just something about her. Those gorgeous eyes and her sweet smile.” Waverly flashed a quick grin at Nicole. “I think I knew in that moment we’d be together for the rest of our lives.”

“Ugh, you’re gonna make me ralph,” Wynonna said, rolling her eyes.

Waverly leaned over to brush back a stray piece of hair from Nicole’s face before kissing her tenderly on the lips.

“Winnie, dinner-ruining PDA is a lifestyle choice. You do not have to be like this,” Wynonna said to her niece. Waverly turned away from Nicole to stick out her tongue at Wynonna.

“So, baby,” Waverly said, reaching across the table to grab her daughter’s hand. “When are you going to start your research?”

Winnie had basked in the glow of her mother’s approval when she had told her that she wanted to pursue an honors degree at the University of Wyoming with a concentration in the American Old West. Waverly had lit up when Winnie told her about her prospective thesis topic, but she had had more romantic notions of the research process. She had imagined biting the end of a pen in a palatial library, adjusting the glasses that she didn’t even wear as she read through dusty tomes about the shoot-out at the O.K. Corral. Now that she was faced with the task of sifting through mildew-scented boxes in her aunt’s house, it seemed quite a bit less glamorous.

“I mean, today, I guess.” Winnie shrugged, knowing the research process would likely be boring and time-consuming.

“I’m so excited for you, sweetie. This family is so rich in fascinating history. You know to call me upstairs right way if you find anything really cool, right?” Waverly said, squeezing Winnie’s hand.

“For sure, mom, but I bet most of it is just old-timey junk.”

“You never know. Our family heirlooms always transport me to another time. Maybe you’ll find a treasure up there.”

“Baby, please be careful, though. Some of the stuff could possibly be dangerous,” said Nicole.

“Yeah, this is the only house in America where the paintings on the wall might try to murder you,” Wynonna said.

“I’m always careful,” Winnie replied. “Don’t worry about me.”

 

* * *

 

Dust motes hung in the air, illuminated by the light streaming in through the attic’s only window. Winnie flicked her wavy, auburn hair out of her eyes as she pulled open the flaps of another warped cardboard box. Her family’s history rarely ceased to amaze her, but she drew the line at moldy and much of what she had unearthed in her Aunt Wynonna’s attic was just that. Winnie blew out a huff of air as she reached into what felt like the hundredth box of old family heirlooms. It seemed like the Earp’s had an endless supply of “priceless artifacts.” At least that’s what her mother called the junk in the Earp homestead attic. Winnie tended to agree that old objects had value, but some of this stuff was bordering on trash. Knock-off Wyatt Earp memorabilia from the tourist traps that dotted US Interstate 80, dried out corsages from long ago Purgatory High proms, fraying baby clothes that smelled of moth balls.

Sifting through the boxes, Winnie found one piece of paper particularly amusing. A yellowing certificate from the Purgatory Sheriff Department declared “Wynonna Earp” to be an “Official Junior Deputy of Purgatory, Wyoming.” The date on the paper put Aunt Wynonna around seven years old. Probably an elementary school trip to the local police department, Winnie thought. She set aside the certificate. Diving back into the box, a cool circle of metal lying at the bottom drew her attention. She pulled out a heavy, gold coin. Flipping it over in her hand, Winnie could see a woman’s profile with the world “LIBERTY” stamped across a crown in her hair. The year at the bottom was 1897. Trapped beneath the coin was a crumpled ledger from a saloon called The Dexter. Winnie’s heartbeat quickened. It was a financial document from the two-story saloon that Wyatt Earp had opened in Alaska during the Nome Gold Rush.

“The Dexter,” Winnie breathed out, staring intently at the coin. As if the words had invoked a spell, the coin began to vibrate in Winnie’s hand. A blue glow emanated from it and grew brighter, enveloping the entire attic in its light.

When Winnie Earp came to her senses again, she was lying flat on her back in her aunt’s attic. The mysterious blue light had vanished. Winnie rubbed her eyes vigorously with her balled fists. What in Wyatt’s name had just happened? There was still a light buzzing in her ears as she sat up, as if she had just stepped out of a loud concert.

“What the…” Winnie whispered to herself. The coin was gone. The attic seemed much dustier now, the boxes she had just been digging through were covered in cobwebs.

Everyone else had gone to Shorty’s for a drink when Winnie had come upstairs to get started with her research, but this stillness felt different. Something wasn’t right. Winnie felt an acute desire to flee the Earp homestead. Standing up quickly, she nearly knocked her head on the low, vaulted ceiling of the attic. Winnie eased herself down the narrow stairs. The house was in disarray. Furniture was covered with sheets, dust and cobwebs in every corner of the house. Winnie immediately sought out car keys. Instead of the slick, plastic-topped Volvo key that had been hanging on the key hook by the door, there was a set of rusting Ford keys. Obviously something was wrong, so she grabbed them without much thought and went outside. She would take whatever transportation was available into town.

The only car parked outside of the house was a blue and white pick-up truck. Winnie pulled open the door and jumped into the driver’s seat. As Winnie drove into town, she noticed it was fairly crowded. Main Street rarely had enough cars to make parking a problem, but at the moment there was only one spot available directly in front of Shorty’s. Winnie accelerated into it. She heard a horn go off to her left. Looking over her shoulder, she realized she had just cut-off a police cruiser. The pale blue sky dotted with clouds reflected brightly off the windshield of the cop car, so that Winnie couldn’t see in to identify the person she had just edged out of a prime spot. She could guess that they weren’t happy.

Winnie slipped out of the truck and walked purposefully in the front door of Shorty’s.

“Ah, Jesus! Geez.”

Winnie spotted a young woman with long chestnut hair tied half up standing at the bar. A beer tap was spewing liquid all over the bar and down the woman’s shirt. Frantically, she fumbled with the tap until it stopped spilling beer.

“Perfect.” She threw up her hands in exasperation.

“Excuse me,” Winnie called down to the woman from the doorway.

“Oh, hi.” Her head shot up. “Can I help you?”

Stepping down the stairs by the doorway, Winnie finally got a good look at the woman’s face and knew immediately that she recognized her. Though she was much younger than the woman who had raised her, she was unmistakable. Memories overwhelmed Winnie’s senses. Laughing with delight as her mom bounced her on her knee. Cool hands on her feverish forehead as she lay sick in bed. Nestling her cheek on a soft shoulder as she was lifted out of her car-seat after a long trip. Glowing faces as she walked on stage to receive her high school diploma.

“Oh shit…” Winnie whispered.

“Can I help you?” Waverly repeated, patting down her soaked top with a rag from the bar.

“I was just… I was looking for someone I thought would be here. You’re… you’re Waverly Earp,” Winnie said, walking up to the bar.

“Yes.” Waverly looked a little confused. “Do I know you?”

“No. I’ve just heard about you, you know, around town.”

“Oh you know, it’s all in the smile and wave,” Waverly said with a shy smile and flutter of her fingers.

“I’m Winnie.” She extended a hand to her mother.

“That’s a nice name,” Waverly said, taking Winnie’s hand.

Her mother’s hand was soft and warm, not yet as lined as the hand Winnie knew. She felt a surge of love for her mom, even in this younger incarnation. Winnie wished she could just tell her what was happening and ask for her help. Waverly smiled at her warmly, her eyes crinkling at the corners.

“So, I’m really sorry, but we’re not actually open yet,” Waverly said. She genuinely sounded apologetic.

“Oh, right. I just… I actually wanted to know what year it was.”

“What year?

“Yeah, like, 1985 or 2042...”

“Oh, you mean the year, year. It’s 2016.” Waverly laughed. “That is a super weird question.”

“Right, I know. Just like to double check.”

Winnie’s mind was racing. If it was 2016, she was not supposed to exist yet. It wasn’t that surprising that she would end up encountering some bizarre, time-bending artifact in the Earp family attic.

“Okay… God, I’m sopping wet. You know, I keep telling Shorty he needs to fix the darn taps. Sorry, do you mind just, uh.” Waverly mimed covering her eyes.

“Oh, uh, sure.” Winnie turned her back to the bar. She had no idea what she was supposed to do. Based on the time-travel movies she had seen, she should not be interacting with her Past-Mom. There was one person Winnie knew who was the authority on wibbly-wobbly, time-wimey stuff, but she wasn’t sure where to find him. Winnie’s train of thought was interrupted by a tearing sound from behind her.

“Oh, crap. Uh, Winnie, I’m stuck.”

“I got you.” Winnie came around the bar to help her mom detangle her shirt from her earring.

“Good job you’re not some guy, right, or this would be really, really awkward,” Waverly said, trailing off at the end of her sentence.

Winnie felt a strong sense of déjà vu, but that was impossible because this was before she was even born. Lost in thought, Winnie didn’t realize her mom had been staring intently at her for several seconds. The look Waverly was giving her made her feel uneasy. It wasn’t unkind, but there was something in it that didn’t seem quite right.

“Um, I owe you one,” Waverly said.

“Okay, well, I’m looking for Doc Holliday. Would you know where he is?”

“Doc Holliday? Like Wyatt Earp’s best friend, fastest gunslinger in the West, died from tuberculosis in 1887, Doc Holliday?”

“I mean… yeah.”

“Okay, but did you miss that last part about how he died over a hundred years ago?”

Winnie frowned at her mom. She rapidly searched her brain for the story of when her mom first met Doc. She knew it was at Shorty’s, but she wasn’t sure if it was before or after the time into which she had just appeared.

Winnie took a step back from her mom. “Right, look, I’m gonna go. Let you finish opening the bar.”

“Oh, um, okay. Well, come back another time, if you like.”

Winnie nodded and rushed out the door of Shorty’s, head down. Outside of the bar she barreled full speed into a police officer.

“Shit, sorry,” Winnie said.

“That’s okay,” the officer replied. Winnie met her familiar brown eyes. She had never seen her mother’s hair long enough to wear it braided.

“Mom!” It just slipped out.

“Excuse me?” Nicole Haught replied.

“Shorty’s is closed,” Winnie blurted out. “I, uh, was just in there. They’re not open yet.”

“Oh, too bad. I was looking for a cup of coffee.” Nicole shrugged and tipped her hat at Winnie. “Have a nice day miss.”

A cup of coffee. Winnie felt another wave of déjà vu. Actually, maybe she just felt dizzy. Her head was spinning. She looked down at herself and could swear she saw flickering. It was as if her body was winking in and out of existence. Her mother’s voice filled her head. _I drenched myself in beer right as Nicole walked into the bar looking for a cup of coffee_ … _I got a button stuck on my earring and Nicole had to help me… I think I knew in that moment we’d be together for the rest of our lives._

What had she just done?


	2. Chapter Two

Winnie had found herself a quiet nook at the end of one of the stacks in the Purgatory Public Library. This particular spot was beneath a window that faced out onto Main Street with a prime view of Shorty’s. After staking out the bar from the library all morning, Winnie finally saw Doc Holliday walk through the front door some time after lunch. She jumped up from her perch at the window. Pins and needles shot down her legs into her feet. She had been sitting with her legs folded under her for over an hour. Shaking out her legs, Winnie walked purposefully out onto Main Street where she forcefully collided with someone.

“Oh, god, I’m so sorry.”

“Whoa, watch out.”

Winnie made eye contact once again with her mom in full police officer get-up. “Mo--”

Nicole gave her a strange look.

“Ma… Mia. Mamma Mia. Great show.”

“Sure.” Nicole frowned at Winnie, tipping her hat back. “Hey, we bumped into each other earlier. Literally.”

“Yes, we did. You’re Officer Haught.”

“Um, yeah. I’m sorry I don’t think we’ve met,” Nicole reached out a hand.

“Of course, I’m, uh, new to the area,” Winnie said. She grasped her mother’s hand. Nicole’s handshake was firm, but soothing. Winnie thought about how Nicole had always squeezed her hand when she had to get a shot at the doctor. Winnie despised needles, but Nicole’s gentle hand in hers helped Winnie survive her annual shots throughout childhood.

“I’m Nicole Haught.”

“I’m… Winnie Ear—” Winnie stopped herself, searching for a non-suspicious last name. “Uh… I’m Winnie McFly.”

“Winnie, that’s a nice name. What brings you to Purgatory?” Nicole said, looping her thumbs through her police-issue utility belt. Winnie wondered if Nicole noticed the striking similarities in their appearance. They were right around the same height with the same red hair and dimples.

“I’m doing research for my thesis.” It wasn’t a lie.

“Let me guess, Wyatt Earp?” Winnie nodded. It was the easiest explanation.

“You guessed right. I’m researching the saloon Wyatt opened in Alaska during the Gold Rush. I was hoping to speak to some Earp family members about primary source material.”

“Well, you’re in the right place. Waverly Earp is a descendant of Wyatt’s. She works at Shorty’s.” Nicole nodded her head towards the bar. “I would try her first.”

“Great, thanks,” Winnie said.

“Okay, then, enjoy your research,” Nicole said, tipping her white Stetson again. Winnie turned towards Shorty’s.

“Oh, and, Winnie?” Winnie looked back at her mother. “Watch where you’re going.”

“Of course, Officer Haught.”

When Winnie walked into Shorty’s, she immediately spotted Waverly talking to Doc at the bar. Winnie frowned. Her mom had just said she thought Doc was dead. Was it possible that Waverly met Doc on the same day that she met Nicole?

Determined not to screw up anything else, Winnie kept her head down as she walked over to the pool tables to eavesdrop on their conversation. She wanted to hear what they were saying, but she was nervous Waverly would notice her. Although her body hadn’t flickered since she last left Shorty’s, she had a bad feeling about what she had already disturbed.

“It’s a shame a pretty thing like you never gets to leave the saloon.” Doc was leaning over the bar, staring intently at Waverly.

Waverly sighed. “You know what?” She pulled a bill out of her back pocket. “There, covered you out of my tips,” she said.

“I did not ask you to.”

“No, didn’t need to.” Waverly stabbed a ticket onto the spindle by the cash register. “I got a good feeling about you. And I’m an excellent judge of character.”

Winnie watched as Waverly turned away from Doc and she accidentally caught her eye.

“Shit,” Winnie muttered.

“Winnie!” Waverly called out. “You came back.”

Waverly came over and pushed herself up onto a pool table next to Winnie. She was so short that her feet didn’t touch the floor.

“Yeah, I, uh, was looking for someone,” Winnie said, looking over Waverly’s shoulder at Doc who was draining his glass at the bar.

“Jesse James, maybe?” Winnie looked back at her mother. Waverly’s eyes were tracing Winnie’s face. It was the same look as earlier that made Winnie uncomfortable, but she couldn’t quite figure out why.

“Jesse James?” Winnie replied, frowning.

“Folk hero from the Old West. Died in the 1880’s.” Waverly winked.

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

“You were looking for Doc Holliday earlier,” Waverly picked at the felt on the pool table. “Kinda ruins the joke when you have to explain it…”

“Oh, gotcha.” Winnie ran a hand nervously up and down her arm. “So listen, can I ask you a question?”

“Okay, shoot.”

“Who was that guy you were just talking to?”

“Old-timey looking dude?” Winnie nodded. “Yeah, he’s just some Wyatt Earp fanboy. Tons of them come through Purgatory to drink where Wyatt Earp drank.”

“Right, but did you catch his name?”

Waverly frowned, tipping her head to the side. “You know, I don’t think he mentioned it.”

Winnie looked back at the spot where Doc had been sitting, but he was gone now.

“Hey Waves, I need the key to your apartment.” A coffee cup thudded down on the pool table next to where Waverly was sitting. “Who’s your friend?”

Winnie turned to say hello and found herself being eyed up by a shockingly youthful Wynonna.

“This is…” Waverly started.

“Officer Haught?” Wynonna asked, looking confused. “Where are your sexy khakis?”

“No, I’m Winnie,” she said. Somehow Captain Oblivious Wynonna had managed to be the first to notice the strong, family resemblance between her and her mother. Wynonna studied her face, eyes narrowed.

“Shit, yeah, you’re a different person.” She shrugged. “Waves, key? And also whis-key?”

Waverly slipped off the pool table, scooping up Wynonna’s coffee cup. Ducking behind the bar, she topped it off with a generous amount of amber liquid and put it on the bar in front of her. Then she pulled a key on a pink ribbon from her pocket and tossed it to her sister.

“Cheers, Not-Haught,” Wynonna said, raising her coffee cup to Winnie before making her way up the back stairs of the bar.

“So, what’ll you have?” Waverly said, picking up a pint glass to polish from behind the bar.

“To drink?”

“Duh,” Waverly said. Despite her teasing tone, Waverly managed to not sound mean at all. Again, Winnie felt a rush of affection for her mother, wishing desperately to confide in her about this insane situation.

“What?” Waverly said, ducking her head shyly. Winnie realized she had been making prolonged eye contact with her mom.

“Nothing… to drink. I’m here to do research on Wyatt Earp,” Winnie said. Waverly grinned widely.

“Research! Well, you came to the right gal. I’m the expert in this town on all things Wyatt Earp.”

“So I’ve been told,” Winnie replied, scooting onto a bar stool.

“Oh yeah, who told you?”

“Nicole Haught. Officer Haught,” Winnie replied.

“Huh, don’t know her.”

Winnie heard a rushing sound. She felt like cotton had been pressed to her ears. Looking down at herself, her body appeared translucent for a moment. She could hear Waverly’s voice, but it was muffled.

“I… I gotta go.” Winnie got up from her stool, holding onto the edge of the bar for support. She could hear Waverly calling her name, but she staggered out of Shorty’s without looking back.

Winnie inhaled gulps of air, leaning back against the outside of the bar. She walked down the street, rounding the block by the Green Bamboo, the only Chinese place in Purgatory. Down the back alley behind Shorty’s, she could see a man in a hoodie appear next to the dumpsters behind the bar. He had a messenger bag thrown over his shoulder and he was walking briskly up the alley with his head down. Winnie stepped back out of his line of sight. Doc walked right past the spot where she had ducked out of view.

“Doc!” Winnie called out. “Doc Holliday!”

He stopped and turn to look at Winnie. She saw no trace of the friendly warmth that he usually exuded.

“Young lady, to whom do you think you are speaking?”

“Doc, I need your help.”

“I cannot say I count you among my acquaintances and I’m in an awful hurry at the moment.” He tipped his hat and began to walk away.

“I was sent here from the future! It was accident. At least, as far as I can tell it was an accident.”

“The future? I believe you are mistaken. Gravely mistaken, miss. Good day.”

“Please, Doc! Your ring conquers time to keep you young. You really don’t believe I could be from the future?” Doc’s eyes grew wide, one hand moved unconsciously to touch his ring.

“Who are you?”

“Winifred Earp. Everyone calls me Winnie.”

Doc gazed at her. “How do you presume to know me?”

Winnie took a deep breath. “I’m the daughter of Waverly Earp and Nicole Haught.”

Doc removed his hat and ran his fingers through his hair before replacing it.

“If it is true, it is very strange indeed. It is not unheard of to visit another time, but to be seen and heard by its occupants is unusual.”

“So you believe me?”

“There are stranger things in this world. How is it that you find yourself here?”

“There was this coin in a box in my aunt’s attic. I think it came from the Dexter.”

“A coin from The Dexter…” Doc smoothed his mustache with two fingers. “Do you have the object in your possession?”

“No, it disappeared when I traveled through time.”

“You say you found it in a box?”

“Yes, in Aunt Wynonna’s attic.”

“Well, knowing the Earp sisters, they haven’t touched a thing in the attic in years. I would bet it is exactly where it was when you found it.”

“So I need to go back and get it?”

“Yes. Go now. I have some business to attend to.”

“What kind of business?”

“None of your concern.” Doc reached up and touched his ear, wincing as his fingers came away red.

“How will I find you?”

“I will find you, Winifred.”

* * *

 Almost as soon as she had entered the empty Earp house and made her way back up into the attic, Winnie heard voices downstairs. She peered through the gaping attic floorboards into the rooms below. She could hear at least two voices.

“Hey, I got all thirty-four of your texts.”

That was her mom’s high, playful voice. Everything she said sounded like an inside joke that she shared only with you.

“Your apartment’s been broken into. You can’t go back.”

Aunt Wynonna. Deeper, more authoritative, and laced with love for her sister.

“Uh, what? But my yoga mat is there.”

“Well, it’s not safe and neither is Gus’s or Shorty’s or the back of Champ’s pick-up.” Wynonna rolled her eyes at her sister. “Ew… This place used to be a home. Remember when Mama made these windchimes? Remember? This was a home then, you know? Never saw anything scarier than an albino gopher.”

“Until the attack where half of us died,” Waverly replied, leaning on the couch. “Oh! Hey Marshall Dolls.”

A third voice joined the duo. Deeper still, it was Dolls.

“How old were you when the revenants invaded the homestead?” Dolls asked.

“Twelve,” Wynonna said.

“Six.” Waverly glanced over at Wynonna. Her mom hardly ever talked about the night Ward died. She always said it was ancient history, which struck Winnie as ironic because her mom loved to talk about the past.

“And they had never done it before?”

“Maybe they were scared of our dad,” Wynonna said.

“Or physically unable…” Dolls pulled out a pen knife, “to step foot on Earp land.” He cut off a piece of the windchime.

“Wha—hey, that’s…” Waverly reached a hand out.

“Ammonite. This mineral found around here?”

“Unless you can smoke it, I wouldn’t know.”

The corners of Waverly’s lips tugged up into a small smile.

“You want a safe place; this stuff might explain why your ancestors built this house here.”

“A house that doesn’t have running water and smells like skunk hiney?” Waverly said, smiling. “Yeah, I’ll be in my car.” She left Wynonna and Dolls standing by the windchimes.

“It’s tough for her… being the youngest?”

“Yeah, she was four when Mama left. She just up and moved away.”

“Maybe it runs in the family… Anyways, you got a good look at the thief at Waverly’s? Better yet, a shot?”

“Yeah, I did, but he was better.”

“Better than what?” Wynonna and Dolls exchanged a look. “You two look around the homestead. See if you see anything unfamiliar, something occult-ish.”

Wynonna snorted. “Occult? That is so specifically vague.”

“You want a safe place to lay your head for you and your sister? Keep your eyes open, Earp.”

“For trouble?” Wynonna asked, half-sarcastic.

“That too,” Dolls said, handing a few old-looking pieces of paper to Wynonna.

Winnie realized she had been holding her breath for most of the conversation, letting it out with a whoosh. She crawled towards the cardboard boxes that still sat right where she left them when she had arrived in the attic. They were dusty and covered in cobwebs. While pulling open the first box, she heard footsteps and the slam of a door. The downstairs grew still. She had to sift through several boxes before she finally found the fading certificate from the Purgatory Sheriff Department again. It was only slightly less yellow now. Rummaging around in the bottom of the box, her hands finally found what she was looking for. Winnie held the coin flat in the palm of her hand. Closing her eyes, she inhaled deeply through her nose.

“The Dexter,” she said, with confidence.

After a second or two, she cracked open one eye. No blue glow. No hurtling through time back to her real life.

“Well, shit.” More footsteps downstairs signaled someone’s return to the house. She pressed an eye to the floor again. It was Wynonna and Waverly.

“Okay, so what exactly are we looking for?”

“Something strange and hard to explain. Like your relationship with Champ.” That was the second time Wynonna had brought up Champ. Winnie wondered if she was referring to the balding Purgatory High School football coach, Champ Hardy. Her mom had never mentioned him before much less alluded to a relationship. Gross.

Winnie sat up and looked down at the coin clenched in her fist. If the phrase, “the Dexter,” wasn’t the trigger of the coin’s time-traveling capabilities, Winnie had no clue where to begin figuring out what was. Staring down at her hand, she felt a strange falling sensation. Her hand flashed in and out of existence.

The tinkling of a cell phone’s ring brought Winnie back to her senses. Her mouth was dry and the light in the attic was slightly different. Had she passed out?

“Yeah?” Wynonna’s voice from downstairs drifted up into the attic. “Pfft. Amateur mistake.”

Winnie knelt down to the floor to see if she could catch a glimpse of Wynonna through the floor.

“Whoa, Dolls. Slow down… Ew. We haven’t found anything like that.”

Winnie couldn’t see her aunt through the floorboards, but she sounded like she was standing near the front of the house.

“Dolls, the Homestead is ten acres. We can’t dig for it all night.” Abruptly, the attic grew dark. Suddenly Winnie could no longer see a few feet in front of her.

“Wynonna?” Waverly called to her sister. Her voice sounded dangerously close to the attic hatch.

“What, Waves? I’m on the phone.”

“Um, something seems off about the door to the attic.”

“Dolls, I’m gonna have to call you back.” Wynonna’s voice drew closer. “What’s up?” Winnie could tell that her mom and Wynonna were both standing directly below the trap door up to the attic.

“The door to the attic. It doesn’t seem right.”

“No cobwebs…” Wynonna pulled Peacemaker out of her boot. “Good look, baby girl. Stay here. I’m gonna check it out.”

Winnie felt the blood drain from her face. Winnie didn’t doubt Aunt Wynonna would shoot a dark shape lurking in the attic of the Earp Homestead on sight. She was paralyzed with fear crouched by the boxes. The hard, cold coin in her front pocket jutted into her thigh.


	3. Chapter Three

**_2019_ **

Waverly’s fingers fluttered over the small, square tiles stacked neatly on a wooden rack. Frown lines creased her forehead as she gazed intently at the letters before her. Waverly was an absolute Scrabble fiend. The first time she had challenged Nicole to a game, Nicole had thought it might be fun. A prouder woman could not have handled the sound thrashing Waverly had doled out during their nearly three-hour Scrabble session. Nicole found she didn’t mind getting whipped by Waverly at Scrabble. Waverly’s concentration face was so endearing. Biting her lower lip, she always peered at the tiles with such great focus that her eyes almost looked closed.

Leaning back on her hands, legs crossed in front of her, Nicole watched her girlfriend. “Baby?”

Waverly started. “What?” She had been lost in thought.

“Can you play, please?”

“Genius takes time.”

Nicole sat forward, resting her elbows on her knees. Twisting at the leather band of her new Shinola watch, a birthday present from Waverly, she glanced at the time.

“We have dinner reservations in forty minutes.”

Waverly held up a hand. She picked up six of her seven tiles from her rack and laid them carefully on the board. _MUZJIKS_.

Nicole threw up her hands. “What in God’s name does that mean?”

“It’s another word for a Russian peasant. More importantly, it’s worth 48 points with the triple letter score,” Waverly said, with a self-satisfied smile.

“Jesus, why do I even bother?” Nicole huffily crossed her arms across her chest.

“Aw, baby. It’s okay.” Waverly leaned across the gameboard between them. Gently, she pressed her lips to Nicole’s. “Our kids will have your looks.”

Nicole smiled into the kiss. “You’re relentless,” she muttered against Waverly’s lips.

Pulling back from Nicole, Waverly laughed. “Relentless, huh? Pretty big word.”

Nicole headed off anymore teasing by leaning into a kiss. She felt Waverly’s tongue brush gently against her bottom lip and shifted forward, trying not to break contact. Nicole could feel the heat between them building and knew she needed to stop before they missed dinner.

Nicole pulled away. “Waves?” She gazed up at Waverly who was still leaning over the Scrabble board, looking down at Nicole.

“Yeah?”

“What about our kids?

“What?”

“What about us having a kid?”

A slow smile spread across Waverly’s face, her eyes crinkling at the edges.

“Are you serious?”

With one hand, Nicole pushed the Scrabble board out of the way. Tiles skidded across the coffee table as Nicole closed the gap between her and Waverly.

“Sorry, but we both know you were gonna win.”

* * *

 

 

**_2016_ **

Winnie stayed frozen in her spot behind the boxes. The creaking of the attic door jolted her heart into overdrive. Hopefully, with the boxes in front of her and the darkness that had fallen, the sisters wouldn’t notice her crouching in their attic.

“Let me borrow that flashlight,” Wynonna said.

Winnie tried to quiet her short, rapid breaths, clamping a hand over her mouth. Footsteps ascended the stairs at an achingly slow pace.

“I swear I can’t get this damn thing lit.” Wynonna’s voice was coming from directly in front of her now. Winnie could hear the sound of a flashlight being smacked against a palm. It flickered on, shining brightly into Winnie’s eyes. The stack of boxes wasn’t tall enough to conceal her position from someone standing up.

“What the hell!” Wynonna yelled. The light sputtered out, throwing the attic back into darkness.

It was pitch black except for a glowing pair of yellow eyes over Wynonna’s shoulder.

“Wynonna! Behind you!” Winnie and Waverly called out at the same moment.

A low, deep voice rumbled through the attic.

“Your hair smells like lilies. The flower of funerals.”

Wynonna spun around to face a tall figure in dark, hooded cloak looming above her. “Worst pick-up line ever.”

A flash of silver, followed by a clatter at the far side of the attic brought Winnie to her senses. She jumped up, smacking her head on a slanting ceiling beam.

“Fuck!”

“Waves, run!” Wynonna yelled down to her sister. Practically throwing herself down the stairs, Wynonna fled the attic. Grabbing her sore head with one hand, Winnie followed her. At the bottom of the stairs, before she could get her bearings, Winnie was shoved roughly in the chest.

“What the shit, dude?” Wynonna yelled.

“Can the explaining wait for like two seconds?” Winnie gestured frantically at the attic.

“Two seconds. Come on.”

Winnie followed Wynonna out of the house into the front yard. Waverly was sitting in the driver’s seat of her red Jeep.

“What the hell was that?” Waverly yelled before noticing Winnie standing behind Wynonna. “Winnie?”

Wynonna whipped around. “Wait, yeah! You’re that Haught-Stuff lookalike from Shorty’s. What the hell are you doing on our property?”

“I was just… Um. I just…” Winnie tripped over words, trying to come up with an excuse for being at the Homestead.

“Just, uh, just. Spit it out.” Wynonna mocked her cruelly, crossing her arms across her chest.

“I’m supposed to help you?”

“Oh, great. Perfect. You’re a shit liar.” Wynonna threw up her hands. “If you hadn’t distracted me, I wouldn’t have lost Peacemaker.”

“You lost Peacemaker?” Waverly interjected loudly from the Jeep.

“Yeah, because Not-Cop here was lurking behind our boxes!”

“Why were you in our attic, Winnie?” Waverly asked.

“I was sent here. I’m supposed to help you find something.”

“The thing that’s stopping the ammolite from protecting the homestead?”

“Yes, exactly! The object that’s letting the revenants on the property.” Winnie latched onto this piece of information.

“Of course. Dude, you’re spoon-feeding her the ingredients for a credible story.” Wynonna glared at her sister.

Thankfully, Winnie was familiar with what happened. Waverly had begun teaching her Earp family lore when she was a toddler. She knew every story about Wyatt and the Revenants and the Homestead by heart. She knew Waverly had been coerced by Bobo Del Rey to bury a talisman that allowed demons onto Earp land. She also knew where Waverly had buried it all those years ago.

“Waverly, didn’t Bobo ask you to bury a talisman in the pet cemetery when you were a little girl?” Winnie asked.

“How… how do you know that?”

“Like I said, I was sent to help you. You need to dig up the talisman and then the ammolite will keep the Revenants away again.”

“What is she talking about Waves?”

“Bobo, my imaginary friend.” Waverly looked at Winnie curiously, head tipped to one side.

“He’s a revenant,” Winnie said.

“Jesus Christ. Look, you’re obviously super weird, and I need to find my gun. Stay here with Waverly. I need to go back inside.” Wynonna turned and ran back into the house while Winnie climbed into the backseat of the Jeep.

“Winnie, how do you know about Bobo?” Waverly twisted around in her seat to make eye contact.

“I told you, I’m a researcher.”

“That doesn’t explain why you know the name of my imaginary friend.”

Wynonna appeared again at the front door, yellow eyes looming behind her.

“Start the car,” she yelled.

The cloaked man followed Wynonna out of the house.

“Oh shit!”

“Get in the car,” Waverly shouted.

Wynonna ran around to the driver’s side and jumped into the front seat as the figure advanced towards them.

“Come on you stupid junker!” Wynonna twisted the key in the ignition, but the engine refused to turn over.

“Oh, god! I think he’s draining the battery!” Waverly yelled.

Wynonna turned to Waverly. “Run! I’ll hold him off.”

Winnie leaned forward from the backseat. “No way! This is Earp land.”

“Dude, stay out of this,” Wynonna said.

“She’s right. This is our land.”

“Well, we can’t hold off revenants from it. Not until we find the talisman.”

“Winnie’s right. It’s buried in the cemetery.”

Wynonna and Waverly locked eyes for a moment before both diving out of the Jeep in unison. Winnie quickly followed.

“Bobo told me it had to be an Earp. That if I buried the talisman in the pet cemetery it would stop Mom and Dad from fighting.”

Just as the three women made it to the cemetery, a black SUV pulled up. Waverly grabbed an old spade lying by the entrance and knelt in the dirt.

“It’s here. Beside Pikachu the hamster’s final resting place.” Waverly crossed herself before continuing to dig at the ground.

Winnie spotted someone climbing out of the SUV. “Dolls!”

Wynonna gave her a weird look. “Dolls, listen. Scary-light-sucking-demon on our ass?”

“I know. I get the gist. End it, you’re the only one that can.”

The shadow man appeared at the crest of the hill. “Yes, dig your own graves,” he growled.

Wynonna took a shot at him, but a loud clang rang out and the shadow continued to advance. She looked over her shoulder. “What was that metallic sound?”

Together, Winnie and Waverly answered. “Jim Miller.” They glanced over at each other.

“Killer Miller used to where a metal plate. It was an olden-days version of a bulletproof vest,” Winnie continued.

“Wow, you know your stuff,” Waverly said, smiling.

Wynonna reached into Dolls’ front pants pocket. “Cover me?”

Lighting a flare, she hollered to the shadow revenant. “Hey, freak nuts! Come get it!”

Killer Miller turned his yellow eyes on Wynonna and advanced towards her for a moment before stopping. “You are not the target. Bobo will be sad to lose you little sister.”

“Waverly is the target!” Dolls aimed his gun at the revenant.

“What? Why?” Winnie said.

Shots rang out. Wynonna had unleashed Peacemaker on Miller. Light streamed through the holes Wynonna’s gun punched into the revenant. He turned slowly to face her. Wynonna aimed Peacemaker squarely between Miller’s eyes.

“Lights out bitch.”

The ground dissolved into flames below Killer Miller’s feet. His roars lingered in the air after he was swallowed up by fire. The sky turned light again as Wynonna called to Waverly and Winnie who were still standing behind Dolls in the graveyard.

“Find that talisman,” Wynonna yelled. “Woo. This just got crazy.”

Waverly jammed the spade back into the dirt. Breathing heavily, she turned to Winnie. “Don’t worry about me. I got this.”

“Right, sorry.” Winnie began to scoop handfuls of dirt from the spot where Waverly was digging. Over her shoulder, she heard shouting.

“Wynonna! Move!”

Winnie’s head shot up. A young man in a long coat, carrying an axe, was headed directly for her aunt. Dolls approached the attacker who lunged at him with the weapon. Lightly stepping aside, Dolls used the man’s weight to throw him off balance and landed a jab to the stomach. The man spun towards Dolls, lifting the axe. Dolls grabbed him by the throat and slammed his head into the assailant’s.

“Mom! What do we do?” Winnie called to Waverly. Waverly turned to her with a strange look.

Blind fear seized Winnie. What if she had accidentally caused this? Winnie leapt up from her spot on the ground by Waverly and sprinted towards the man with the axe.


End file.
